I Am
by RobinLover4Ever
Summary: In a society that is run by bar-codes, one man will break out...Or at least try to. WARNING; Action, Labels, Screaming
1. Opening

**I Am…**

 **I went to Campus Life, and it gave me this idea. So, thank you Campus Life!**

Richard sighed as he sat in his bed.

He just didn't understand!

Why?

Why must other people be labeled?

Why did he have to go with the labels?

No.

No more.

This will be the day, where I break out of the bonds!

 _This stupid barcode can't tell_ **anyone** _who or what I am_!

oooOOooo

Since the beginning of time, humans have had one thing in common.

A barcode.

Everyone, since birth, had a barcode.

And a system was started.

Scan the barcode, get what you're supposed to do, learn how to do said thing, and that's how you live.

It's a society where no one could break out.

Correction; **WAS** a society where no one could break out.

 **Short; I know. Anyways, this is just a little something before we get into the real chapter. A little background "research" before the actual story.**


	2. No More

**I Am…**

 **Chapter 2: No More**

"Bruce, I want to do something else." Richard said casually over breakfast.

Bruce spit out his coffee a little.

"What?" Bruce asked, dabbing his mouth.

"I want to do something else." Richard said.

"Richard. You can't. There's a system. You can't just go do whatever you want." Bruce said.

"Well, why not?" Richard asked, getting a little mad.

"The system has worked very well for years! You can't just break it!" Bruce said.

Bruce was wearing his usual work clothes; a black suit jacket, a crisp white button up shirt, a black tie, black kakis, and black dress shoes.

Bruce was a large man; muscular, tall, and…present.

Every time he walked into a room, his presence just screamed "LOOK AT ME!" It wasn't heavy or anything, it was just…there.

And Richard couldn't blame anyone.

After all, Bruce had black hair, blue eyes, and tan skin.

He just grabbed the attention of everyone, whether he liked it or not.

It was a good feature to have when one was a business man; especially a C.E.O. of a high ranking company.

But not a good feature for trying to hide something.

Yet, Bruce made it happen.

He kept his secret safe AND was somehow always in the public eye.

No idea how he does it, but he does.

"Bruce, I'm bored. I'm bored with what I'm doing! I don't want to keep getting good grades for something that I have no intention of doing!" Richard said, voice raising a bit.

"Okay; I'll amuse you. What do you want to do instead?" Bruce asked.

"W-What?" Richard didn't think that far ahead.

"I'm giving you the opportunity to do something else. What do you want to do?" Bruce asked.

"I-I…uhm…" Richard stuttered.

"Did you even think that far ahead?" Bruce asked.

Richard looked down shamefully, "No."

"This is the reason why we have this system. It tells everyone what you are. And what job you should have." Bruce said.

"Yeah? Well, I don't want to sit _behind a desk_! I want to do something else!" Richard yelled.

"Richard, it is what it is. Don't change it." Bruce said.

"I want to do something else." Richard said firmly.

Bruce looked at him for a moment.

"Fine. You figure out what you want to do, then we'll talk again. In the meantime though, you have school. I'll also be making an appointment with Leslie." Bruce said.

Leslie Thompkins was Bruce and Richard's therapist and doctor.

"I don't need a therapist!" Richard said.

"It's quite obvious that you do. You'll be seeing her. There is no arguing with this." Bruce said.

Richard groaned and stopped upstairs to his bedroom.

He took off his pajama top and grabbed his school shirt.

Richard stopped as he grabbed his shirt.

He looked in the mirror.

Richard had black hair, blue eyes, and pale skin.

But his eyes weren't on his face, they were on his left arm.

On his left upper arm where it would be covered by his shirt short-sleeves, there was a black barcode.

The barcode was black, like a tattoo, except you couldn't get rid of this tattoo no matter how hard you tried.

I mean, I guess you could get rid of it by cutting off your arm, but that wasn't an option.

Richard sighed.

That stupid barcode was a label.

Something that Richard _**hated**_.

He hated being told what he is.

He knew what he is, and he didn't need some stupid barcode to tell himself that he was strong or weak, or smart or stupid, or whatever!

He is Richard.

And he wasn't going to be labeled and told what to do because of a mysterious tattoo.

And he sure wasn't going to be told what his occupation for the rest of his life would be because of a stupid barcode.

Richard glared at the barcode before he put his white button-up shirt on.

He wasn't going to be labeled by it.

He was going to make his own labels.

Or he would go down kicking and screaming if he had to.


	3. Support?

**I Am…**

 **Chapter 3: Support?**

"Hey Dick!" Barbra Gordon waved and ran to him.

"Hey Babs!" Richard smiled.

Barbra Gordon was beautiful as always.

She had red flowing hair, blue eyes, and tanned skin.

She had on her school uniform, which was a white button-up shirt, a red tie, blue jacket, and a blue skirt.

"What's up?" Barbra asked.

"Just…a fight with Bruce." Richard said.

Barbra grimaced, Richard and Bruce seemed to be having fights more often.

"What was it this time?" Barbra asked.

"The barcode." Richard said casually.

"What?!" Barbra had wide eyes.

"We got into a fight because I don't want to be behind a desk for the rest of my life." Dick said.

"Richard, you can't just go around doing whatever you like!" Barbra said.

"But what if I don't like the system?" Richard growled.

"No, Richard, people who test the system disappear and don't come back." Barbra said.

"No they don't. That's just said so that no one tests the system." Dick wrote it off.

"Dick, listen. You don't want to fight the higher ups. They will tear you apart!" Barbra said.

"Barbra, I'm tired of doing the same thing every day. I don't want to sit behind a desk for the rest of my life! Barbra, I want to do something else." Richard said.

"Richard, don't test them. They'll arrest you for treason or espionage or something! They will, and no one will see you again!" Barbra said.

"Well, I'm tired of being this. Being labeled by something other than myself." Richard said.

"But the barcode is a part of you. It's specific to you. Everyone's barcode is specific to them, and only them!" Barbra said.

"Yeah, well, I don't want to be defined by a barcode. I want to be defined by myself. I want to make my own labels." Richard said.

The bell rang loudly just then.

"Look we'll talk later. But don't tell **ANYONE** else, okay?" Barbra asked.

"I already told Bruce." Richard said.

Barbra shook her head, "No one else."

Richard sighed but agreed, "Okay."

"I'll see you at Lunch." Barbra said and then walked to her classroom.

"Yeah." Richard sighed and started walking towards his classroom.

oooOOooo

"Today class we'll start-" the teacher was talking, but Richard wasn't listening.

He was instead drawing in his notebook.

Then, an idea came to his head.

'I'll write down different occupations and do more research later. I'll show Bruce that I can do more.' Richard started writing down anything that interested him.

oooOOooo

"So Dick, about this morning." Barbra brought up.

"I know what I want to do!" Richard grinned widely.

"Richard, no." Barbra said sternly.

"What? You haven't even heard it yet!" Richard frowned.

"I don't want to. Whatever you think you're doing, you're not. You're going to be found out and takin' to jail!" Barbra said.

"I'm trying to make a better life for myself. I'm trying to be a better person. Be the best person I can be! Don't you ever get tired of the system?" Richard asked.

"No." Barbra said.

"Well, I'm tired. I want to do what I want freely. I don't want to be told to sit and do something I'm not interested in." Richard said.

"Richard…Dick…you have just a few more months until graduation. Let's just get past high school, and then we can talk, okay?" Barbra said.

"No. As soon as we get out of high school, we will be told to go and do classes in college for something that I don't want to do!" Richard said.

"Dick, why don't you at least try it first? Maybe you'll find it fun." Barbra said.

"I'm not going to sit behind a desk and be a department manager for my adopted father!" Richard growled and grabbed his books.

"I thought you of all people would support me." Richard said and walked away.

oooOOooo

"Richard, you're going to see Leslie tomorrow." Bruce said at dinner.

Alfred, their butler and friend, put a pot of mashed potatoes on the table.

"Fine, but I know what I want to do." Richard said.

"Oh? And what's that?" Bruce's eyebrow raised.

"I want to be a cop." Richard said.

Alfred dropped the pot of green beans while Bruce spit out his coffee.

Bruce, who was coughing, said, "W-WHAT?!"

"I want to be a cop." Richard repeated.

"Absolutely NOT!" Bruce said firmly.

"Why not? You said I could be!" Richard yelled.

"I said that we'd see. And you're not being a cop!" Bruce said.

"Why not?" Richard growled.

"Dick, you're not going to go out there and get yourself killed!" Bruce said.

"I'll be careful!" Richard argued.

"No you won't. I've seen you during your acrobatics training. You will not be a cop." Bruce said.

"This isn't about me being a cop is it?" Richard asked, trying to read Bruce.

"It's several reasons!" Bruce said.

"Like what?" Richard snarled.

"Like the fact that you could get killed. How about that you're carrying a gun. And maybe the fact that you're fighting the system!" Bruce yelled.

"You said that we'd see about changing! That I'd get to do something else! This is what I want to do!" Richard yelled.

"No. No way in ANYTHING! You are not doing this. And if you think that I will put resources towards your suicide, think AGAIN!" Bruce yelled.

"FINE! DON'TT HELP ME! I'LL DO THIS BY MYSELF!" Richard screamed and ran to his room.

Bruce sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

He pulled out his cell phone.

"Leslie, yeah it's Bruce. It's worse than what I thought." Bruce said.


End file.
